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0000-00-00 5262 Years Ago - The Last Supper
5262 years ago, the planet Khera-- It is, on its' surface, not a horribly unusual gathering. The Techno-palace of the Warlord Majestros is playing host to several distinguished persons this night. Some are long-standing allies or subordinates in war. Some are more distant, more occasional allies in politics. All are, in their own way, heroes of Khera. So there really should be no cause for concern. Except for the fact that Lord Emp and Lord Majestros are not exactly known for being close, a high-ranking Pantheon Warlord playing host to the founder of the Coda, however many times they've fought alongside each other, is a little unusual, to say the least, and there are even some Adarastea on the guest list. Adarastea! What's this world coming to? Though ironically, that very question may be the basis for tonight's agenda. Majestros of Khera sits at the head of the table, wearing the stoic expression he's usually seen wearing. To his right sits Lord Yohn Kohl, who wears a more unguarded expression, a frown of concern. To his left is his son, Majestrate. Further down the table sits an early arrival, Lord S'lyton, another of Khera's great warriors and who along with Yohn Kohl has often served as a capable second-in-command to Majestros. Plenty of serving automatons are on hand, making sure guests plates and cups are never empty unless they wish it. They will all be destroyed after this meeting. A double-handful of Spartan-5 series androids provide the security. Yohn Kohl will never quite get used to seeing himself on virtually every street, but otherwise he has humbly come to terms with the honor that Lord Emp bestowed upon him when making the Spartans in his likeness. Majestros for his part...waits...for his other guests to arrive. Inwardly he muses on the long chain of events that have led to this night. He wonders if centuries or millennia from now if it will be the subject of literature and entertainment, and if so, will it be a triumph, a tragedy, or a comedy of errors? Of course, none of these thoughts are shared with his guests. Though judging from his expression, Lord Yohn Kohl seems to have some inkling of just why Majestros has invited such a storied and prestigious group of individuals to his home. The two Coda arrive together, though separate. Though they call each other 'Sister' as an honorific, it's been many years since Lady Zannah or Charis-- technically, Lady Charis with her acceptance as a full sister of the Coda, but that honorific makes people a bit too uncomfortable-- have been heard or seen socially together, if at all. That they arrive together is sheer happenstance, but neither seem entirely pleased about. Both have escorts tonight: Lady Zannah, her younger sister Kenesha, the adolescent girl just as pleased and interested as Zannah most certainly is /not/; and with Charis, the nominal 'head' of the recent 'upstart' group of Adastrean warriors: the Brotherhood of the Blade, Raven, who moves with the arrogance that only comes to one who is unfortunately too handsome for his own good, coupled with grace given by his training in Coda techniques. A strange mix indeed. If Zannah pointedly ignores Raven's presence, and Charis just happens to elbow Kenesha with a slight grin (which may or may not receive a sharp glance from Zannah-- really, Sisters of the Coda should not act like children at play!) then so be it. When brought in, they take their seats at the table, even the more... jovial of the two Kheran ladies can sense (quite literally, in Charis's case) the tension in the air. So they settle into their chairs and watch the host of the evening, waiting for him. Lord Emp's arrival is heralded by a pair of the new Spartan-6 warbots. Most of those are reserved for front-line duty these days, but the inventor of the line gets a few perks, it seems. The diminutive Kheran High Lord looks around a bit, and chuckles, "Well, this is already a grim looking bunch, but at least there are some lovely ladies to feast my eyes upon." Emp grins, giving Zannah of all people an unabashed wink. Not the first time Emp's incorrigible tendencies have been directed towards the "mother" of the Coda. He moves to a nearby chair that's been fitted with anti-grav capacitors, which lifts him to the edge of the table and lets him sit eye-to-eye with the other guests. "So, I'd ask what's for dinner, but I'm not the kind of idiot that thinks that a fellow like you suddenly picked up the urge to throw dinner parties, Lord Majestros. So why are we here?" "Lady Zannah, Lady Charis..." Yohn Kohl has no problem using Charis' "official" title. He's seen her fight enough to know she's more than worthy of it. A faint smirk touches Yohn's face when Emp appears, and a shake of his head at his doomed flirting with Zannah. S'lyton lifts his brows in amusement but hides his grin behind a gulp of wine. Majestros looks over towards the Coda contingent when they arrive. There's a nod given towards Zannah, Charis and Raven. A half-moment later, there's actually the semblance of a smile towards Kenesha. He's always had a soft spot for the girl, even more so when the tales of her scholarly leanings reached his ears. Perhaps if...no, no point dredging up long-dead possibilities. Lord Emp's pointed questioning draws him back to the present, and he fixes the grey-haired High Lord with a flat stare, "I wonder how many underestimate your powers of perception, Lord Emp?" He doesn't reach for his glass, or touch his food, but he does briefly reach over to Majestrate's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, and turning a brief, but genuinely warm, and hopefully encouraging smile towards the young teen. It fades almost as soon as it appears, though, and he looks back to the others. "I thank you all for coming." He rises to his feet, "What I am going to speak of tonight could well lead to...great difficulty...for all of us. Without saying anything further, should any of you wish to depart now, I will understand and take no insult from it." He glances around, a questioning brow raising, "No?" There's actually a glimmer of something that might be relief as he nods, "Very well then." He steps away from his chair and begins to circle the table at a slow pace while he speaks, "I have come to the realization that for far too long, our attentions have been focused outward...that we have spent so much of our effort tracking and battling the Daemonites that we may have, in fact, neglected events that have been occurring right underneath our noses...right here on Khera." "Ah. Finally." Emp comments, though his expression has shifted to one that's far less sardonic and more a combination of absolute, deadly serious and...eager? Majestrate sits next to his father and gives the newly arrived guests a nod from his seat. He keeps his silence thus far, letting his father do the speaking for now. The warlord's son also nods as his father speaks and does not rise. Majestrate is among the, if not the, youngest in the room but he is staying put, not one to abandon his father. Zannah sits forward, listening with an intent expression on her face that gives away little or nothing. Her sister, however, leans back in her chair-- not disrespectfully, but almost as if to better absorb ever drop of information that would come from this night's meeting. Raven and Charis, however, exchange quick looks. Raven's hand moves to squeeze Charis's leg under the table, and she gives him a slight nod, but leans forward in almost a mirror image of Zannah-- though her expression is eager, rather than intent. She and Majestros had, in their previous days as lovers, had many an argument and debate regarding Kheran society, the place of the non-Kherubim in it. It was only natural given their diverse social status and the occasional way he had been rather oblivous to certain aspects of it. And she had clawed her way up from the simple thief she once had been to now being included in the councils of lords. Yes, from what she could feel from her old lover, and the glee she could feel from Emp-- perhaps tonight would be the beginning of something /better/. For all of Khera. Charis could barely contain her excitement. Kenesha was likewise as excited, but for slightly different reasons. This was history in the making, she /knew/ it. Her sister may be concerned with the songs of battle and war, but to Kenesha, this sounded more long-lasting than bloodshed could ever be. She glances down at Majestrate, and gives him a quick grin-- to be included on this for them both was a great honor, indeed. They weren't even to their majority yet. ...and besides, Lord Majestros's son /was/ as handsome as his father. Worth a quick glance or two while she listened to the discussions! Majestros continues speaking as he paces in that slow circuit of the table, "We have all seen that when battle comes, caste becomes a pointless edifice. Shapers, Titanothropes, Adarastea..." He glances towards Raven and Charis at that last, with the -barest- quirking of the corners of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but almost. "They have fought every bit as hard, and sacrificed every bit as much as any Kherubim, and I would challenge any here to deny it if they believe it not so." He glances about the table, then adds, "But what do they fight for? In all these thousands of years...what have they gained for their loyal service?" Majestros shakes his head slightly, "Nothing. And now...perhaps less than nothing." He looks back towards Emp, and says, "Perhaps this would be a good point for you to speak, Lord Emp." Emp looks a bit surprised for the moment, then smiles ever-so-faintly. Not a sardonic or wry expression, but the kind that someone who's just been pleasantly surprised gets, "You surprise me, Lord Majestros. I had not thought that you paid overmuch attention to Council politics, given how often you avoid attending conclaves on anything other than matters of war." Emp clears his throat, "There are motions that have been drafted by certain members of the Pantheon. Just ideas, really. Surely harmless. Discussed in committees and casually mentioned in legislative summaries that are produced every week. But I've been playing these games long enough to know when seeds are being planted, and I know how long they take to grow fruit." He takes up his cup and gulps the wine down, handing the empty to a serving-bot for a refill, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "If these plans were to be fully placed into motion...and I have every reason to believe they will be...it would lock the lower castes into a virtual slave status for the next dozen millennia...perhaps even longer. I can provide details if you like, but suffice to say key among these notions is the nationalization of Spartan production, that they can be used as a police force within the lower-caste zones. "To maintain peace, stability, and quality of life" of course." Emp even uses the "air quotes" when he says that, his tone laced with disgust. Charis nearly shoots out of her chair, rage clear on her expression for a moment, before Raven actually pulls her back down. His own expression is dark and angry though. "That's not exactly surprising," he drawls with no small amount of irritation. "To be /honest/. To the vaunted Council, I'm sure they see it only as the natural next step to what we already--" Zannah glowers across the table at Raven with clear malice. "Hold your tongue--" "What, in the presence of my betters?" Raven snaps back angrily. At that, it is Charis who's hand grips the shoulder of her current lover. "Raven--" but as Charis speaks, Zannah looks almost ready to come across the table at him. The young Adastrea man looks ready to rise himself... "Wait!" Kenesha says, rising to her feet and grabbing her sister's shoulder. "This is /exactly/ what they want. What they've been doing to us for CENTURIES. There's already so many rifts on all sides. Lord Emp is right, it won't be long before they pass these laws, and if they do..." her brow furrows. "...oh." She looks up at Majestros. "/THIS/ will happen, won't it?" the scholarly adolescent says. "On a grand scale. There will be uprisings..." Charis frowns. "And we will win," she points out bluntly. "Because the Titanathropes and Shapers will join us. And combined, we far outnumber the Kherubim... and Sister Zealot, you yourself have said that desperation makes one dangerous." Zannah glances to Charis and gives a begrudging nod. Majestrate returns the smile to Kenesha. What happened after today would change history. He sits at the table and leans back to look up at his father, nodding in understanding. But that is brief when he has to turn and look down at Emp. The young Kheran holds his chin as he listens to the diminutive lord. Majestrate frowns as the notion of abusing the already rigid caste system. The outburst from Kenesha takes him aback but he does give a response after there is some quiet, "What are they doing to ensure that the Titanthropes and and Shapers do not join the others?" "Very perceptive, Kenesha." Lord Emp notes, his expression dark, "Only in the scenario as presented, the numbers will be equalized by my Spartans." Emp gestures to the pair that flank him, "Not even these 6 series. A new series. Even more capable. It's really quite spectacular. I should never have shown the design proposals to anyone." Emp shakes his head, "And I can't even argue effectively against the nationalization without making my more...controversial...opinions openly known. The Pantheon may be close-minded, but they're not fools. But I'm glad you asked your question, Young Lord Majestrate...becaues that's really the masterstroke." Emp scowls, "They're going to give the Shapers and Titanothropes seats on the Council." "But not the Adarastea, I presume?" That's Lord S'lyton, who looks quite troubled by all this now. "Wait, most of us here have Council seats, and plenty of allies." Yohn Kohl speaks now, glancing to Majestros and Emp, "If we band together..." "It won't be enough for a plurality." Majestros speaks again, "Even some of our usual allies would vote in their own self-interest on a matter such as this. Even more pointedly...they would simply make sure that many of us are too busy fighting to attend the relevant votes. Which is precisely what they've already been doing." He adds, "Even more so the Coda Sisterhood. Have you noticed, Zannah, that in the last three centuries the number of missions that your sisters have been assigned have tripled? Have you noticed that across that time...your numbers have started to decline as you lose more sisters than you can easily replenish?" He looks to Zannah now, knowing that she will need a more personal stake in this to throw her full support behind them. "Now feast your eyes on -this-..." He pulls out a simple Kheran comm-unit, but it swiftly projects a hard-light image of a proposed resolution that would also "nationalize" the Coda...and give the Pantheon the ability to train and "ordain" their own pet Coda Assassins. All, of course, in the name of replenishing the sisterhood's number. "They're trying to take the Sisterhood from you, Zannah." He glances to Charis briefly as well, before looking to Emp and noting, "I hope you will not think to ill of me, Lord Emp, that it was this piece of legislation that led me to investigate further." "I don't think ill of you at all, Lord Majestros. I was the one that made sure it came to your attention. They hadn't originally flagged it as a war powers amendment, and so I made sure it was so it would be forwarded to you." Emp smiles more than a little smugly. Zannah's expression is pure murder-- and whatever emotion is roiling through the leader of the Coda, if it wasn't entirely obvious to the others there? The very visible flinching and drawing back by both the Adastrea makes it very clear. Charis's hand even moves to her head for a moment, and she blinks and shakes her head as if to clear it, before her own expression goes stony. "Like hell they can dictate who--" both Coda start at once, then glance at each other in irritation. Charis gestures politely to Zannah-- after all, she is the leader. "They kill my Sisters, and then they think some foolish man who knows /nothing/ of battle or honor, who sits around in a council chamber all day with every want attended to--- is WORTHY to chose who wears our symbol?" Zannah snarls. "Um, no offense, Lord Emp?" Kenesha hurridly adds for her sister. "I mean, on the whole... council... member that doesn't fight thing." Charis points to Zannah. "That, precisely." She looks angry, but for the moment is doing a slightly better job at keeping it in check than Zannah. "We are effective because we hold ourselves to a standard that no one that is not one of us could possibly understand." Raven has, at least for the moment, calmed down some, his own expression as stony as Charis's. It seems the two empaths have, in an effort to maintain their sanity in a room full of roiling emotion, closed themselves off from it. "And what of the Brotherhood, should this... nationalization occur? Surely they will not wish to have armed and trained Adastrean men 'underfoot'," he opines with a grunt of irritation. "Certainly not," Zealot replies. She may not have wanted the Brotherhood to exist int he first place, but now that they do, they are CODA. And that makes them as much her responsibility as the Sisterhood-- especially to protect their existance. "They'll likely execute you all," she replies bluntly. "I will not allow it." Majestrate blinks. Well that would be one way to dissuade any potential opposition from uniting, cooption usually will do that. One upside of a near eternal lifespan, being allowed to play the long game. Zealot's anger is well-placed and understood, being threatened with usurpation and death are certainly valid reasons to be mad. The young Kheran mutters "So, in other words we are working against time, superior numbers, and a plan." He looks grim and taps the table in thought, waiting to see what his father will say on the matter. "Why would they need to execute then when they can send them on suicide missions instead?" Emp replies, draining another goblet of wine, and yes, refilling once more. "The Brotherhood is smaller than the Sisterhood. Easier to deal with in the long term. Either way they would make certain the Brotherhood is not a factor prior to the final implementation. Oh, and incidentally? While the Shapers and Titanothropes would be receiving seats on the Council, it would not be enough to outweigh the Pantheon votes, even if they banded together and cast every single vote in unity." Emp looks to Majestrate and smiles, "Well, that is perhaps the one upside to all this. Several members of the Pantheon are in great disagreement...not as to implementing these measures, but in terms of how quickly they should be enacted. I've managed a few procedural tricks and sideshow distractions that will insure it will take at least eight-hundred to a thousand years for the hardliners to push these matters through." Majestros looks grim, but as Emp concludes, his voice is resolute, "What I am about to propose is nothing short of the highest of treasons. It will upend our entire society, and it will not come without great cost. It will potentially leave us vulnerable to our enemies in the short term...it may well cost us setbacks on several fronts, but..." He completes his circuit of the table, and places his hands on Majestrate's shoulders, "I have decided that the Khera that is represented by these proposed changes is not the Khera that I will allow my son to grow up within. I will not let our youth," A brief glance to Kenesha at that, "Carry on the mistakes of our ancestors and elders in perpetuity. My father believed that Khera could be a society whose greatness came in more than simply conquest and war. You knew him well, Lord Emp, and though it may at times have seemed otherwise, I have not forgotten what he taught me." He takes a deep breath, "And so I propose nothing short of revolution. And the creation of a society wherein all who share the blood of Khera are treated as equal partners in its' rule. I chose those of you who would attend tonight because I trust you, and because I believe that you have seen the signs of what we discuss, and most importantly because I believe that for all our differences, we all carry the hope of a brighter future for our people, regardless of their caste. We have come too far...accomplished too much...to allow our world to destroy itself with such petty and insignificant divisions." He meets the eyes of each at the table in turn, "So I ask you all...will you join me in this endeavour?" "I will." Yohn Kohl speaks without the slightest hesitation, "There is no way in a thousand hells I'm going to let my face be synonymous with oppression." "I've followed you into ten thousand battles and you've never led me astray." Lord S'lyton remarks, lifting his glass towards Majestros' with a touch of a sardonic smile, "What's one more?" Emp, for his part, actually looks a little misty-eyed, "Your father would be proud, Lord Majestros." He leans back in his chair, and his smile, though reserved, bears the expression of a man that realizes he's not the only one swimming against the tide anymore, "I'm with you." "We will join you as well," Charis says quickly, her hand sliding into Raven's. "For the good of /all/ our people-- all of Khera." The young man nods, his jaw set and expression grim. Kenesha lets out a slight squeak of a near-cheer-- history! Being made! And she would have front row tickets to observe it all! Then she glances at Majestrate and blushes darkly before trying to sound more like the adults at the table instead of an excited teenage girl. "I'm with you!" Okay, maybe not so good at that. Zannah gives her sister a smile-- which turns into a slight frown when she traces the girl's glance-- any sort of... interest with those two needed to be nipped before it may bloom. But that is a problem for /later/. She returns her gaze to Majestros, and then she rises. "The Sisterhood stands with you, Majestros-- to our last, if we must. Let it be that the Khera of our children and our children's children be a place of honor and strength of mind and soul-- not just strength of arms and pettiness." "And you, Majestrate?" Majestros looks down to his son, his expression grave, "This must be your decision, as well, not just my own. If you disagree...speak your mind." Majestrate looks surprised a moment, if for nothing else than the fact that he's being given his own "vote" rather than Majestros just assuming that he would follow him. After a moment, he clears his throat and smiles just a bit, "Of course I'm with you, Father." The young man looks up to Majestros, beaming with the enthusiasm and excitement that only the innocence of relative youth can muster. "Good." Majestros pats his son's shoulders, then moves back to his chair, "That was not the only choice we're going to have to make tonight, however." He slides open a small control panel on the table, and a holographic display alights in the center of the table, illuminating a map of the known universe. "Intelligence reports have given strong indicators that Lord Helspont is on the move. I have been tasked with gathering a force to chase him down and end his threat once and for all. I would be departing in three months." He highlights a certain portion of the map, "Helspont is believed to be operating here...using the Oan terminology, in Space Sector 2814. A bit of a backwater, but indications are that there are several worlds there that may contain suitable Daemonite hosts." He adds, "So the question becomes...do we deal with Helspont first, or do we enact our revolution -now- before matters can proceed further? Initial estimates suggest that the pursuit of Helspont could take over three centuries." "Revolution," Charis says without hesistation-- not surprisingly, echoed at the same time by Kenesha. Perhaps for slightly different reasons. Raven looks troubled, however. "We could /get/ Helspont?" Raven has always liked the spotlight, so to speak-- and killing Helspont would be a very spotlight-worthy act indeed. "If we came back victors, the people would have no choice but to follow us-- as their saviors from the Daemonites," he points out. Zannah scowls. "No, I am with my sisters. We end the council /now/, before they can cost any more lives needlessly. We do not breed like lesser races quickly enough to make up for the pointless deaths that the Council will continue to bring upon us." She pauses, then glances towards Charis, and begrudgingly adds, "/All/ of us." Majestrate does not speak, nor does he lean back to get comfortable. This is a charged atmosphere and nearly impossible to relax in. Life or death decisions are being made, but his voice is not the one people will listen for. Instead he looks at those who speak, his father giving the options, Raven advocating going after Helspont, and Charis and Zannah calling for blood now. He sympathizes with both sides, but will not speak right now "Between Majestros, Yohn, and Zannah I think we'll have a lot of support among the Kherubim regardless. You've all been the heroes of the people for over two thousand years." Lord S'lyton opines, his expression growing more serious again, "Lady Charis and Brother Raven hold a similar position of awe and influence with the Adarastea. But depending on who you pick to go with you on this mission, we could potentially bring some of the more influential Titanothropes and Shapers to vet them along the way. See if we might be able to gather such overwhelming support that the Coup becomes as close to bloodless as possible." "If you will pardon my bit of politic, I abstain for now." Lord Emp notes, smiling both wryly and sheepishly at the same time, "I can see the wisdom in both courses, and while I've been hoping for a change in our society for, oh, nearly seven thousand years, I think I can wait a little while longer if need be. I would add that the journey may give me time to not only perfect the Spartan 7 series, physically, but I may be able to create a method that will allow me to implement more of your actual personality in the Spartans, Yohn, if you'd be willing to help me with that. I should think that will make them far less inclined to go along with systematic subjugation." He pauses, "I suppose that means I'd have to go with you, as I imagine that you're not going to let your friend track down Helspont without you. Ah well, let it not be said I'm incapable of being adventuresome." He adds, "On the other hand, if we move swiftly enough, we -might- be able to enact our changes and still strike at Helspont. However, I would not place good odds on the revolution, much less its' aftermath, being concluded in so short a time. We might have to consider the possibility of ceding some ground to the Daemonites in the interim. Nothing we won't be able to recover, but..." Still a problem. Yohn Kohl is quiet for several moments, before looking to Majestros, "I vote we go. Both for the reasons that Lords S'lyton and Emp mention, but also because Helspont is simply too dangerous a foe to have maneuvering behind our backs while we're trying to build a new society." He smiles just a bit, but it's more sad than sardonic, "No disrespect to you, Lord Majestros, but not even -you- can manage the whole war -and- the whole of a newly rebuilding Kheran society at the same time. Even with our help...things would start falling through the cracks." Majestros considers, and nods, "Our intelligence does indicate that Helspont is the glue that is holding the Daemonite armadas together. If he could be eliminated...it may well make the outcome of the war a foregone conclusion. That alone makes it a tempting proposition, and Brother Raven has a point. We would have support now, yes, but if we returned as the slayers of Helspont...it may well be that -only- the hardliners would oppose us. Obviously I would hope to achieve our goals with as little damage to Khera's infrastructure and population as possible." He frowns, "But to insure success on the mission...I would likely have to take all of you with me. All of our best...one final strike to deliver the death-blow to our enemies. I may care little for glory but I suspect that we all can't help but feel a little charge at that possibility..." Zannah scowls, obviously considering the issues brought up. Charis leans back in her chair, folding her arms, her gaze catching Majestros's for a moment. Raven glances to his lover and then to the host of this evening's... discussion, but for the moment, adds nothing further. Kenesha leans forward. "So... that means we can come too, right?" she asks suddenly, gesturing to herself and Majestrate. "When you go after Helspont." She looks thrilled at the possibility. Zannah glances to her sister. "You still haven't reached your majority yet," she begins. "We'll discuss this later." Charis snorts. "So, right, Sister Zealot, we all leave for a few centuries to end Helspont; and we can leave the kids with your mother. Assuming she's not too busy with /her/ work. Sounds like a great idea. We can ship Majestrate off to the Council so he can learn at their feet while we're gone." Sarcasm oozes from her tone, which makes Zannah bristle. "Your opinion on what Majestros and I do with the children is unasked for and unwarranted, /Sister/ Charis," Zealot replies sharply. The Adastrean shrugs. "Just pointing out the obvious. If we're /all/ gone-- which has yet to happen in this war, I might remind you-- other than Lady Harmony, who /would/ you trust their care to? Majestrate's mother fell in battle-- and from what I hear, that's a death we can lay easily at the Council's feet." She scowls. "And your mother has the entire sisterhood of priestesses to herd. Giving her a pair of adolescents would be cruel." At that, she winks at Kenesha, who grins back, grateful for the 'backup'. Strike their leader and the followers with scatter. Majestrate's father makes some points that get nods from the young Kheran. The notion of them coming along then strikes him and his thinks for a moment and says, "Over those centuries it could come to pass that those in opposition would wish to ensure your loyalty by taking those of us not yet at our majority under their wing as has been stated. We ought to go." He stops speaking when his mother is recalled, Majestrate's hands clench the armrests. He would rather not hear his story again, and lets the others speak, having said his piece. "I had planned to bring you with me in any case, Majestrate." Majestros notes, "An unusual act, perhaps, but you are a Warlord of Khera. It is time you start to see what that entails firsthand." The elder Warlord smiles a bit, "And the trip itself may be educational. New worlds to see, and all that goes along with it." He looks to Zannah, "I cannot tell you what course to take with your sister, Zannah, but Charis and Majestrate do have a point. While I believe Lady Harmony can be trusted...and that she is one that we should strongly consider involving in our plans...if you agree to it...she does have many responsibilities, and however revered, she is but one woman." "Yes, educational. I can teach you how to build and maintain the hyperdrives for a Corona-class Battlecruiser." Emp notes towards Majestrate with a grin, "Mostly so I can shirk any engineering duties myself, of course." Yes, he's joking. He's actually in quite a good mood now, and not just because of the six goblets of wine he's downed during the conversation. "If you're coming, it'd require some refits on the cruiser to make sure there are proper lab facilities." S'lyton notes, "That will buy us a couple more months, possibly as many as three...to decide who else we're bringing with us from the other castes." He glances towards Raven, "I assume the Brotherhood would join us?" Yohn Kohl is silent for now, smiling over towards Kenesha and Majestrate and their youthful enthusiasm. He actually picks at his plate a bit, still clearly listening to the conversation and contemplating, but for now he seems to have said his own piece, as well. Raven nods to S'lyton. "As many as you can take with you. I will make sure the best of my Brothers are available for this battle." His hand rests slightly possessively on Charis's leg again, not that she seems to notice or care. She lets out a light laugh, giving Majestros a grin. "We'll finish Helspont, and then come home and change our world-- just like we talked about before, Majestros. I cannot think of a better thing to spend the next few centuries on, myself." She flashes Majestrate a winning smile as well. "Learning from your father-- make that a priority. He's the best man I've known." Zannah snorts, but gives Majestros a wry look as well. "Certainly there are few others that would be able to pull off such a bold stratagem. If you feel that it is best to bring your son, I will speak to our mother about Kenesha coming with as well." Kenesha's eyes widen and she grins broadly, shooting a glance down the table at Majestrate again, and then mouthing 'thanks!' to Charis, who returns an all-too-innocent look at the girl. Raven clears his throat, glancing between Majestros and Charis for a moment before stating, "If you've no more need of me this evening, I should get back to the Brotherhood and begin compiling a list of who will be coming with and the materials we will need to bring. If you will excuse me, my lords, my ladies?" And he rises. "So we are decided then." Majestros notes, not a question. He glances towards Charis at her words, almost looking as though he wants to say something, but whatever it is seems to be cut off by Raven's impending departure, "Of course." Majestros nods to the man, "Forward your selections and final numbers to Lord S'lyton and he will handle the logistics." Whatever he thinks of the commentary from the others, he keeps his own counsel on, finally lifting his goblet, "Well, then...to a better world and a brighter future." Yohn Kohl smiles and lift his own goblet, "I'll drink to that." Lord S'lyton does not speak, but nods and lifts his glass, his smile perhaps still a bit uneasy...it's a heavy task before them, after all, but no less resolved. "I'll drink -twice- to that..." Lord Emp adds, garnering himself Raven's abandoned goblet and apparently intending on double-fisting them. Category:Historical Log